


I know you're tired (why don't we go back home)

by Itsthemooface



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Negative Thoughts, Romance, Someone just give Sanji a hug!, Spoiler: Nami does, This is happy though I swear, Whole Cake Island spoilers, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsthemooface/pseuds/Itsthemooface
Summary: Sanji is quiet. Far too quiet, considering his kitchen is half burned down and Nami's having none of it.
Relationships: Nami & Vinsmoke Sanji, Nami/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 30
Kudos: 120





	I know you're tired (why don't we go back home)

**Author's Note:**

> That’s right, I’m not done with Whole Cake Island, nor Sanji’s vulnerability, so buckle in kiddos. This is a standalone and has nothing to do with my other story involving the WCI arc. 
> 
> Warning: This story mentions abuse and the aftereffects of that on Sanji- some very negative thoughts. So please know your limits and exit if you have to, I don’t want to upset anyone. But I will say the ending is happy, because I like to toe at the dangerous line of emotional but not too much. 
> 
> The title is from the song ‘Tired’ by Astyn Turr. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Sanji’s standing in his beloved kitchen, eyes calculating as he takes in the damage and he doesn’t need to get out his abacus to know this will cost an arm and a leg to repair. The worst of the damage is centered around the stove. The countertop is now black instead of the beautiful cream and gold finish it once had. There’s also god knows what stuck to the top of the stove. At this point it looks like it’s melded to the metal grates and he knows that’s going to take some elbow grease to get out.

Unsurprisingly, the fridge is as good as new. Nami had told him it had been the first thing Luffy had saved when the fire had broken out.

There’s no salvaging the cupboards surrounding the stove though. Fire’s licked away all the colour and has eaten away at the wood- he’s slightly surprised to see the remaining cupboard doors are even still on. He hasn’t worked up the courage to look in the cupboards yet, to see whether he has any cooking equipment or utensils left. He will look, just not yet. He wants to see how much of the black soot he can get rid of and whether he can get any of the black sludge off of his stove first.

Currently, he’s on his hands and knees, cleaning the floor around the stove and has been cleaning for the last few hours. The kitchen is nowhere near clean enough but it’s a whole lot better than the eyesore from before; most of the soot is gone and the black sludge is slowly lifting- it only loosened on his third attempt and at some point, he’ll have to ask what the hell it is.

That’s how Nami finds him. He heard the door open and the distinct sound of heels clicking about the hard wood floor, which then changed to tiles, so he knows she’s making her way towards him.

He spins, ready to put on a show and fall into his _Nami-swaaan~_ routine but the look she’s giving him stopped him on the spot and he’s preparing for the worst. It’s rare to see that look on her face, a mixture between angry and stern. Many of the crew would say she always looked like that, but he knows her well enough, watched her for long enough, to know the small differences.

“Why aren’t you angry about your kitchen?” She demanded, crossing her arms, eyebrow raised, and he realised it’s actually a look of _don’t bullshit me_.

So, he shrugged and started cleaning the space between him and Nami. It’d be rude to turn his back on her and he’d never dream of doing that, but at the same time he needed to keep himself busy, he couldn’t stand the scrutiny of that look.

And she knows it. She continued to stare even though he’s trying to look busy, to politely brush off her concern and not look at her. But she’s not giving in because the silence continued to stretch in the still kitchen, and the final straw is when she started to tap her foot. It matched the seconds ticking on the clock and he started to visualise the ticking of a bomb. He’s not sure what he’s expecting when it goes off.

Doesn’t have to either because he’s giving in on the tenth foot tap.

“Well, I can imagine it was a hard journey to get here,” the ‘ _without me_ ’ is unsaid but it’s there and he shrugged but all she does is continue to stare, looking expectant, so he continued, “and I couldn’t be sure of who actually did it.”

That’s weak and they both know it. Nami’s huffing and her previously crossed arms now sit at her hips as she responded, “Look around-” She pointed at the blackened walls, he hadn’t started on them yet, “-This has Luffy written all over it. You think anyone else could achieve this?”

Sanji had nothing to say to that, so he just kept cleaning, even though he’s pretty sure the spot he’s cleaning isn’t dirt anymore and is actually a scorch mark.

The foot taping started again. “Luffy wasted food,” She said bluntly, and he knows what she’s doing, she’s trying to bait him. “Cooked everything in your best pot and then tipped the pot _with_ the food in overboard.”

He knows she’s missing out on a few key details, like the fact that the atrocious stew he made was poisonous and that had he been with them, this wouldn’t have happened. His sister had told him when she’d returned and if it wasn’t for his sister, Luffy would be dead right now. Probably the one time he’s thankful for his family’s powers, not that they ever benefitted him.

They descend back into silence and it’s suffocating, makes him want to fidget, but he stopped himself. It’s then that he realised why it’s making him so uncomfortable and itchy. It’s stifling and it screams rejection and disapproval. It reminded him of when his father would look down his nose at him, judging him and it was that silence that used to greet him back from his cell when his voice was raw from yelling.

“Well?” Her voice cut through his thoughts before they can go any further, to a much darker place when thinking about his biological family, and he flinched at the tone.

“Sanji?” The tone is soft, a stark difference to the one from before.

Briefly, he wondered why it’d changed so drastically from before when he hasn’t responded. It’s because whilst he hasn’t said anything verbally, physically he’s said enough; from the silence, to the lack of eye contact, to the flinching and belatedly, he realised he’s curled his shoulders in. To make himself look small. Something he hasn’t done since he first joined Baratie.

He’s shown his hand and to someone who’s well versed in this language.

Their pasts were fairly similar, he’d always known that, trapped in situations of abuse and it used to make him nervous. He was always waiting for her to catch on. She was so perceptive, and he was sure she was onto him in Skypiea when he’d said he was from North Blue. He’d watched her eyes narrow and her mouth had opened to voice her confusion, but they’d been interrupted, and it was never brought up again. He slightly wondered if that was on purpose, she didn’t forget the little things.

He chanced a glance at her face after he’s straightened himself and regretted it almost immediately. She looked so worried, eyes searching for something and it made him feel naked. It made him want to disappear and it’s because he’s scared that she’s going to see right through him.

Shame.

That’s what he’s feeling, and he hated it. He doesn’t want her to see all the dirt on him, all the disgusting parts of him that made his family hate him. He doesn’t want it to happen again, he can’t. Not with her. He wants her to see him as the best version of himself, always.

But he can’t anymore. Not when she’s seen where he’s come from first-hand and heard all about it from his father.

He realised he’s already naked. Laid bare before them all, against his will and it’s easier to hide away in the kitchen then let them see him for what he truly is.

His hands have stopped their idle cleaning and he’s got so lost in his self-loathing that he’s forgotten to keep his face neutral and he’s curled back in on himself. He’s laid himself bare this time and there’s no escape.

She doesn’t look disgusted though, she doesn’t sneer down at him like his family did when he was young and tell him how pathetic he was or hit him. It looked like it’s suddenly dawning on her, maybe not the full picture just yet- but the lines are in place and the drawing only needs to be coloured in.

He sees the agitation bleed out of her. Her previously tense shoulders relax; her face softened and her eyes… he doesn’t know if can continue to look directly into them just yet. They melt and there’s so much sitting in that look and it’s all for _him_.

Understanding. Warmth. Empathy. _Affection_.

For little pathetic Sanji.

He looked down again. His wall’s about to crumble and he desperately needed to leave but he has nowhere else to go. This is his safe space.

Heels click against the tiles to close the distance between them but they’re less threatening now, not so sharp and don’t send panic down his spine.

The atmosphere in the kitchen has lifted, it’s warm and he’s suddenly reminded of his mother, how he used to feel when he was around her when she was alive.

Even more so when Nami draws him in. Her hand gently pulled the dirty rag away from his blackened hands and squeezed and he thought that was going to be it. But then her arms are wrapping around his shoulders and he’s being pulled into her embrace. It’s a bit awkward, he’s still taller than her even when she’s wearing heels, so he has to slouch a bit, but he doesn’t pull away. She brings him down until his face is resting in the crease of her neck.

It’s personal and far too intimate and _warm_.

Like she’s protecting him.

And it’s the straw that broke the camels back.

His eyes sting because he honestly can’t remember the last time someone had hugged him like this.

That’s a lie. He can but he doesn’t let himself think about it too often because he never quite got over her death. The woman that made his childhood bearable with gentle touches and adoring looks as he showed off his latest creation; only for it to all be taken away so suddenly before he was forced into darkness.

The tears are pouring now and he’s hugging Nami back just as tightly as she is. He’d be mortified normally; that she was seeing him like this, and he was ruining her pretty dress with something he should be over by now, but he can feel matching tears running down his cheeks that aren’t his. He can feel her body shaking along with his because she’s sharing his grief with him, so he doesn’t have to do it alone.

Nami doesn’t try to sooth him or give him reassuring words, she’s just there with him in the moment. They stay like that, their hold never slackening on the other as sobs filled the quiet kitchen. Quiet ship actually, if either of them bothered to pay attention to anything other than the person in front of them.

Neither of them moved away from the embrace, but when Sanji’s arms slacken slightly, Nami took that as a sign to start running her hands up and down his back. The move brought a fresh wave of tears from his eyes but they’re silent now, just a residue of what’s left over.

They’re in his hair now and he wondered how appropriate it really was when he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, but she didn’t voice her disapproval. If anything, it encouraged her actions all the more and he could feel the rigidness wash from his body at the gesture.

With one last squeeze, he’s tentatively pulling away from her embrace. It’s time to face the music. He wasn’t expecting her to look so determined and he’s thrown for a second because he doesn’t know what to make of that look. She cupped his face and her thumbs soothe across his cheeks to wipe away the tracks of tears that remain.

“I don’t have the full picture, but I know enough. I don’t think any less of you, I want you to know that I wouldn’t- that any of us wouldn’t. If anything, I think you’re even more amazing than you already were.”

Shit. Shit. _Shit._

That almost brings a fresh wave of tears to his eyes because she’s so quickly and concisely got to the root of the problem. They’re words he’s never heard directly said to him and he’s slightly glad because he couldn’t imagine hearing them before now and coping with it.

Her hands are steady on his face and she doesn’t let him look down at his feet like he wanted to. As much as he wanted these words from her, the small voice in the back of his head told him otherwise.

“Judge knows _nothing_. For him to say all those words and believe them just proves it,” She told him fiercely, daring him to disagree. “You’re the strongest person I know, physically, mentally and emotionally. None of them are weaknesses. It’s makes you human and nothing’s worth keeping more than that.”

Nami’s words were fierce, but her expression is soft. Because the words are for Judge and the voice in the back of his head, but the softness is for him. For that dirty side of him that she now sees and apparently likes.

There’s nothing he can say. Mainly because he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack but also what could he say to that? Instead, he’s pulling her into another hug. One where he’s wrapping his arms her and trying to convey how much she means to him.

It must come across because she’s squeezing him back and he felt her breathe in deeply. What really confirmed it is the confidence in which she said, “I missed you.”

He felt like he could melt. From how adorable she’s being right now and the relief; he missed her too.

“I missed you too.”

She pulled away from him so she can see his face but stayed in his embrace, she looked serious again.

“Don’t do it again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he uttered back softly, and his eyes drifted around her face, taking all of her in. It’s rare he got to see her up close like this and he’s savouring the moment.

And then she’s smiling at him, like he’s handed her a whole chest full of gold. Whilst Nami may seem hard and unforgiving at times, she’s also one of the softest and most understanding people he’s ever met and she’s showing that right now.

It’s a combination of everything that does it for him. The atmosphere is intimate, despite the half-burned kitchen surrounding them, they’re still holding onto each other and Nami’s eyes have gone doe-eyed, almost like she’s realised too. But she didn’t pull away, didn’t let go. Instead he watched as her gaze quickly fell to his lips before darting back up to his eyes and he copied the gesture.

They’re like magnets, slowly drawing in closer with little regard to anything else other than the person in front of them. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but when their lips finally touch it’s like everything has fallen into place and all the wrongs in his life are suddenly right. He tilted his head to the side to find a better angle and slot himself closer to her. She hummed in agreement, like she could read his thoughts, but the action sent tingles through his lips and his new aim is to get her to do that again.

But there’s hands on his shoulders before he can fulfil that goal, they’re pushing him back and he doesn’t resist.

“Maybe now isn’t the best time to be doing this,” Nami whispered and he can feel her breath on his lips. Her hands don’t move from his shoulders, but they do relax and stroke at the fabric of his shirt.

“Why’s that?”

“I feel like I’m taking advantage, look at what we’ve just been doing,” she said, edging around the topic and he smiled because she’s trying to be delicate with him.

“If it’s you, you can take advantage whenever you want.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She snorted and pinched his side, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

She gave him a bland look then, unimpressed with his joking.

“Really I am. I kissed you and I’ve wanted to for a really long time…” but then he hesitated, wondering if he’s read her wrong and maybe this was her attempting to let him down gently. “I mean, unless you don’t…?”

But then she’s firmly pressing her lips against his and, his moment of self-doubt faded into the background. He doesn’t get the chance to savour their second ( _second!_ ) kiss because she’s pulling back to give him a coy smirk.

“Now, I didn’t say that.”

He smiled at her then and his hands moved to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking along it as he waited another moment for all of this to soak in.

“Can I kiss you?” He should have asked before, but he was too wrapped up in the moment, he slightly regretted that as he watched her blush prettily before him. They’ve already kissed ( _twice!_ ) but somehow this embarrassed her? She’s too cute for her own good.

All she does is nod back and he brought her in closer, his lips brushing against hers, teasing her, but he doesn’t keep her waiting for much longer as he pressed his lips fully to hers. His hands move away from her jaw and into her hair, one playing with the strands whilst another stationed itself at the nape of her neck. It’s a good move on his part because she’s humming against his lips again and he felt like he could float away at the feeling.

He doesn’t though, instead he worked on keeping his cool because there’s no way he’s messing this up- he’s worked too hard to get to this point. It’s almost all thrown out of the window when Nami brushed her tongue against his lips and the sound that came from the back of his throat it definitely not something his brain preapproved, but it doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth to welcome her in.

It’s then that his brain finally registered how long they’ve been in the kitchen, in silence, alone, uninterrupted and as much as he’s focusing on her, on how soft her lips are and how good she felt, he also knew how unusual that is.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss but not without leaving a lingering one against her lips. When he opened his eyes, he’s met with an expression he’s never seen before on her and it makes it so much harder not to press back against her. She looked dazed and her eyes are lidded and she’s so gorgeous (Okay, so the last one isn’t new, sue him).

“Why is it so quiet?” He asked and pressed another kiss to her lips because he’s weak. Weak in the best way possible.

She blinked at him, apparently not expecting him to say that. Soon enough, her lips are curling upward, and she responded, “Luffy’s in hiding because of the state of the kitchen.”

“So he should be, what the hell was that idiot thinking?” There’s heat behind his words again but they don’t match the soft way Sanji nudged his nose against Nami’s.

“Go give him hell.” She tilted her head towards the door to encourage him.

He smiled back boyishly, his face so much lighter than before, like a burden had been lifted. He squeezed her hand in response.

“But don’t think this is over. If you ever need to talk or cry, know that you can come to me.” Nami’s face was serious as she looked at him. “Maybe even when I’m drawing maps.” Her face cracking to wink at him.

He nodded at her, leaving her with a parting kiss on the cheek but at the last second, he hesitated and looked at her longingly. Was this really more important than her?

Luckily, Nami’s well versed in Sanji.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” she breathed out, giving him a teasingly smoky look that he wanted to burn into his brain for later. That look is directed at him, _him_! 

That’s all he needed to hear before he’s marching out of the kitchen, footsteps heavy, kicking the door open to an empty lawn deck and shouting for Luffy to show himself.

From inside the kitchen, Nami smiled. Her work was done, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Feels like my super expensive psychology degree is finally doing something; not making me any money but helping me write fanfic- score! 
> 
> I actually wasn’t going to have them kiss at first, I was only going to allude to a relationship because I didn’t want it to undermine Nami supporting Sanji, but I’m a sucker for them. Hopefully I managed to pull it off. 
> 
> Please excuse any errors. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
